The
cold penetrates through my gloves and hat on this clear
January morning. With a single digit low, the weather
is perfect if you want the rare pleasure of ice skating
in Moab. Though some might rather stay indoors and
figure out a New Year’s resolution, I’ll
let you in on a little secret: The ice may not be here
tomorrow.

For January is the month of starts and finishes. Ice
today, slush tomorrow. This opportunity to look back
and ahead is one we share with a deity. Janus, the Roman
God to whom this time of year of was sacred, is the guardian
of portals and patron of beginnings and endings. It is
from him that the name Januarius was transformed into
the modern January.

Known as the “custodian of the universe”,
Janus was represented as a two-faced head on Roman coins.
Looking forward and backwards at the same time, he lorded
over the first hour of the day, the first day of the
year and the first month of the year. He was considered
one of the great kings of the Golden Age, who brought
peace and prosperity to his people. Janus deserves credit
for introducing money into a barter society, organizing
the cultivation of crops, and establishing law and order.

For his good deeds, ancient Romans built a temple to
Janus with doors facing east and west to mark the start
and end of the day. At this temple offerings were made
to help with marriages, births, planting of crops – anything
that marked a beginning in one’s life. The doors
of this temple were left open in times of war, so that
the gods could intervene and help the locals. During
times of peace, the doors were kept closed.

So as I glide across the ice working on my crossovers,
I try to look back at a year that might be best represented
by a single word – “dynamic”. But that
I mean “in a state of constant flux”, not
static like a straight line. Although there were times
I wished for that constant flow in work and life, it
rarely appeared.

Nelson Mandela once said that, “There is nothing
like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find
the ways in which you yourself have altered”. Some
would argue about changes that have taken place in the
Moab community, but I try to look farther afield, to
the towering cliffs and silent forests that surround
the town. Change is a mixed bag and sometimes I have
a difficult time accepting these differences. But, like
stepping into a flowing stream, it is never the same
with each step.

So, with the cliffs lighting up with the morning sky
peeking over the La Sals, I try to work up some resolutions
that I might actually accomplish in 2006 better known
as the Year of the Dog. Go birding more often. Laugh
more readily, cry more easily. Visit strange and new
places even if they may be just down the street. Learn
something new like a foreign language or how to balance
my checkbook. Learn to do backward crossovers. Try to
fall less while skiing. Write more letters, use less
email. Refill my bird feeders more often.

I try to stay away from the more difficult resolutions
like losing some weight or getting a job. So as I carve
some more turns on the ice, I give a silent nod to this
Roman deity for whom the month of January was the highlight
of the year, and keep my eyes out for any birds on the
wing. Nothing like the present to start in on one of
these New Year’s resolutions.